


it all comes back to this

by hopeless_hope



Series: if i stay [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Car Accidents, Character Death, Child Abuse, Everyone Needs A Hug, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Peter Parker, Sickfic, Whump, Worried Tony Stark, but just for a small part, but not Peter, but primarily angst, dad tony, the if i stay AU nobody asked for, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-26 22:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18186266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_hope/pseuds/hopeless_hope
Summary: “Please don’t let me die,” Peter whispers, eyes wide as everyone takes their places, the surgeon picking up a scalpel. “I don’t want to go, please.”He watches as a woman leans down close to his ear and talks to him lowly.“Here’s the secret, baby,” she says. “You control this whole thing. If you live, if you die – it’s all up to you. So whatever fight you’ve got in you, you have to pull it out now.”Peter stares at her, confused. How is he supposed to do that? How does he just… decide? He can’t do anything, no one can even hear him. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to die. Not yet. He has too many people he can’t leave behind.May. Tony. Ned. MJ. The Avengers. Spider-Man.He can’t leave them yet.orAfter a car accident leaves him hanging somewhere between life and death, Peter must decide whether to stay or die. The answer isn't as easy as he thought it'd be. Luckily, he has his friends and the Avengers there to help him figure it out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Silence" by David Hodges.
> 
> Also, literally all of the medical stuff in this chapter is taken straight from the If I Stay movie because I am not creative enough to bullshit that.

“May, hurry up!” Peter calls excitedly. “We have to meet Mr. Stark at the airport in less than two hours!”

Mays shakes her head in amusement from the kitchen, where she’s loading a bunch of snacks into a large bag. From the looks of it, Peter’s about ready to literally start climbing up the walls. She zips the bag closed and thrusts it into the boy’s arms.

“Here, take this out to the van while I grab my purse from my room. I’ll meet you out there in just a second,” she tells him, smiling fondly as he bounds out the door.

She quickly grabs her purse and double checks that her wallet and phone are there before scanning the room one last time. Her eyes fall onto Ben’s leather jacket, slung over the back of her desk chair, and she resists the urge to bring it with her. She hates being away from it.

But she shakes her head, reminding herself that it’s much safer here, and there’s no good reason to bring it. May quickly slings her purse over her shoulder and flicks the light off before heading out to the van.

“Took you long enough!” Peter exclaims when he catches sight of her, and May rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be dramatic, it was like two minutes,” she says calmly.

“Yeah, well, California awaits! I can’t believe Mr. Stark is taking us out to his beach house. I wonder how big it is. I know it’s a mansion but how mansion-y do you suppose it is?”  Peter rambles, barely pausing to breathe as they pull out into the street.

“I’d say pretty mansion-y,” May indulges.

“I wonder if there’s, like, a spectrum for mansions, ya know? When does a house become considered a mansion? How big does it need to be? Does it say more about your status to have one monstrous mansion or to have a few smaller mansions?” Peter fires off, not waiting for an answer.

May glances back at him in the mirror, thoroughly amused. “Good news is you have a whole plane ride to ask him these questions,” she points out, and his eyes brighten up at that.

“Oh yeah, you’re right! May May May!” he gasps dramatically, and she jumps, trying not to jerk the wheel.

“Peter, you can’t gasp like that when I’m driving, I thought we were about to get hit or something!” she scolds lightly, and Peter gives her a sheepish look.

“I’m sorry, May,” he says sincerely, and she gives him a small smile, letting him know it’s okay. “I’m just – I’m _so_ excited. Plus, he’s taking us to Disneyland! I’ve only ever been to Disney World, and that was once when I was little!”

“I’m sure you’ll love it. This is all very generous of him,” she agrees. Mostly, she’s just looking forward to time with Pepper. Since the Snap, the two of them have grown much closer as friends. Whenever May’s not working, she’s started accompanying Peter to the Compound on weekends.

“Oh wait, I forgot to text Mr. Stark to tell him we’re on the way!” Peter says, pulling out his phone.

 _just left! we should be there in like an hour and a half?? traffic sucks tho so idk_  
_this is peter btw  
_ _parker_

Not even a minute later, he gets a response.

_Pete, we text like every day. You’re saved into my contacts. Goodness. Anyway, tell your aunt to take her time and drive safely._

“Mr. Stark says to drive safely,” Peter reads aloud, and May scoffs.

“Has he _seen_ the way he drives? That man makes me terrified for everyone else on the road. It’s like he doesn’t know that civilian life isn’t all _Fast and Furious_ ,” she jokes.

 _she says your driving sucks,_ Peter types out quickly, laughing to himself.

“I’m so excited to hear Dr. Armstrong give her talk about the genetics of fruit flies. God, her work is so cool. Mr. Davis played a clip of her talking on the news in class one time,” Peter tells May as she stops at a red light. His phone vibrates with another message.

 _I’m sure she did, kid._ Peter smiles, closing his phone.

“It’ll be a wonderful learning experience,” May comments idly, no longer paying much attention to the conversation. It’s rush hour, and people are driving crazy.

“I bet I can put this on my resume, too. And I guess other applications, if I don’t get into MIT,” Peter muses. He’d applied early action and checks his email and mailbox roughly twenty times a day.

“Mhm,” she hums in response, wincing as someone runs across the crosswalk too late, nearly getting hit by an antsy driver.

“May, do we have any snacks?” Peter asks. “I’m hungry.”

“Peter, we just ate breakfast!” she says exasperatedly, carefully turning through the packed intersection.

“Yeah, well, I’m a growing boy,” he says innocently, and May rolls her eyes at him.

“Grab one out of the bag I had you bring to the car,” she tells him, turning her focus back to the road.

Peter quickly shifts in his seat, leaning over the back to reach for the bag sitting on top of all the suitcases in the trunk. He quickly rifles through the bag, searching for something salty.

“Ew, wheat thins?” He wrinkles his nose, tossing the box aside. “Oh, Goldfish! That’s perfect, thank – “

Peter’s heart flies into this throat suddenly, his spider sense screaming. Several things happen at once.

He twists back into his seat, mouth frozen around his words as May lets out a scream, her hand flying back towards him in a futile attempt to protect her baby. Peter’s eyes widen as his brain catches up with his shrieking senses.

There is a second, in the moments before tragedy strikes, where everything as you know it hangs in the balance. And you realize, too late, that it was always hanging in the balance, and you were just lucky that it hung in your favor.

The truck hits them, and all of that changes.

May’s yell cuts off suddenly in the wake of skidding tires and broken glass, and Peter’s head smacks violently into the window, his body tugging at the seatbelt across his chest. Glass bites into his skin, and he feels the car spin wildly, and all he can think is,

_We’re going to be late._

And then, there’s nothing.

* * *

Peter remembers the moment he fell in love with Iron Man.  He was eight years old, staring at a TV screen, eyes wide, as he watched a documentary about the Stark family.

He saw Howard Stark looking up at his building, his company, eyes shining with passion and pride. And then another picture of Howard with his family appeared, and his eyes were blank, disinterested. Peter turned his eyes to the picture of him, May, and Ben. They never looked at him with anything but warmth.

He couldn’t understand why Iron Man’s parents didn’t look at their kid like that.

And then the documentary showed footage of Iron Man wrapping himself around a child to protect the little girl from a blast, and Peter stared with wide eyes as Iron Man got her to safety, all while being shot at.

“Whatcha watching there, buddy?” Ben asked, walking into the room.

“It’s Iron Man! He just saved her,” Peter explained, pointing to the footage. Ben ruffled his hair and looked at the screen thoughtfully.

“That was brave of him,” Ben commented.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “That’s the kind of hero I want to be when I grow up. Like you are.”

Ben smiled down at him, heart tugging as he wrapped an arm around the kid and pulled him close. Peter still remembers that moment, a fragile piece of perfection.

(That’s the thing, though. Perfect moments are always fragile.)

“I’m sure you will, bud.”

* * *

Peter opens his eyes to a sunny sky, the edges of the buildings blurry above him. For a moment, he’s confused, disoriented. His hands reach for something – anything – but they’re just met with hot pavement.

There are voices all around him, and he carefully pushes himself up, taking in his surroundings. He’s just inside a barricade, police officers working to keep people back as they stare with horrified looks.

Startled, Peter looks down at himself, but he can’t figure out why they’re all looking at him. Then, an officer walks right by him with quick steps, and Peter gets to his feet and turns quickly.

He realizes those people aren’t looking at him.

In front of him lies May’s van, almost unrecognizable. The front half is completely caved in from the passenger side, mangled gruesomely from the impact. The street is lined with black skid marks and littered with pieces of glass.

Just to the side of the wreckage, a bunch of EMTs are huddled together, frantically working on the figure laying there.

“May!” Peter yells, rushing forward, past the policemen and firemen who don’t seem to notice him at all. He tries to get a better look, but he can’t see anything between the mass of EMTs. Panic rising in his throat, he turns to the nearest officer.

“Officer, please!” he says desperately. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with my aunt!?”

The officer pays him no mind, not giving even the slightest indication that she heard him speak. “Please! What’s happening?” he pleads, lost and confused. His heart thuds loudly in his ears.

“Is he going to make it?” the officer asks, and she’s turned away from him now, talking with the man who just walked up, another officer.

“We don’t know, but… it doesn’t look good,” the man replies grimly, looking at the EMTs working on the ground still. Peter gives them a confused look, wishing they would just pay attention to him.

Then, one of the EMTs pulls off her gloves and gets up, giving Peter a clear window to see what they’re doing.

His heart stops.

“Come on, I need a brace for his neck!” an EMT yells, and Peter ventures forward, not understanding.

Laying on the ground in front of him is… him.

Peter Parker is laying on the cement, covered in bruises and gashes, barely breathing as an EMT pumps oxygen into his lungs. Someone is bracing his head, and his skin is as white as a sheet. He’s eerily still.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand,” he says out loud. He tries to tap the shoulder of one of the workers, but he doesn’t get a response.

“Somebody tell me what’s going on!” he yells desperately, turning in all directions. “May? Someone please! God, Peter wake up!” he tells himself, grabbing desperately at his hair. He looks at the doctors working on his lifeless body and shakes his head.

“Wake up wake up _wake up!_ ” He gasps, still turning, still searching for someone to give him answers.

He stops when one of the EMT’s voices rises above all the extra noise. “Come on, we need to get him onto the ambulance! The woman is already on the way to the hospital.”

“The wo – May! She’s – she’s on her way,” Peter tells himself, watching as his body is lifted quickly onto a stretcher. He runs behind them, expecting someone to stop him, but no one even seems to realize he’s there.

They hoist him into the back of an ambulance, and Peter looks back at the wreckage behind him, something heavy growing deep inside of him. He swallows thickly before getting into the ambulance.

Something tells him that the last of life as he knows it died in that van.

* * *

When Ben hands him a large box covered in wrapping paper, Peter is beside himself with excitement. He’s already gotten a handful of birthday presents, but he wanted to save the biggest one for last.

“I think the birthday boy might just implode with excitement before he even sees what’s inside,” Ben comments in amusement. Peter sticks his tongue out at him and gives the box a quick shake, frowning when he can’t feel anything.

“Yay, an empty box!” he says enthusiastically as he tears the wrapping off. May laughs at the kid, his enthusiasm infectious.

Peter carefully works the lid of the box off, furrowing his brows in confusion when he’s met with a bunch of tissue paper. He takes some of it out, only to be met with more. He looks up at Ben, not understanding.

“Keeping going, buddy,” Ben prompts, biting back a smile.

The kid nods and takes the last of the tissue paper out. At the very bottom of the box lies a small slip of paper. He curiously fishes it out and reads the slip, feeling May and Ben’s gaze on him. He reads the words on it.

_IOU three tickets to the Stark Expo._

Peter’s gaze shoots up to meet Ben’s. “You mean – I’m – I’m going to the…?”

“The Stark Expo, yes,” Ben confirms with a smile. “The tickets are being mailed to us, so we couldn’t wrap the actu – oof!” He’s cut off as he’s suddenly met with an armful of excited little kid.

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh thisisthebestdayofmylife!” Peter says in one breath, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re the best person ever, I can’t believe I get to see _the_ Tony Stark and – “ He stops suddenly, turning to May.

“You’re the best person ever too, I love you so much, thank you guys!” he says in a rush, wrapping his arms around her. She squeezes him tightly and lifts him off the ground and into her arms, even though he’s far too big for it now.

She plants a kiss on his cheek. “Anything for you, my love.”

* * *

The ride to the hospital is filled with rapid words he doesn’t understand and the realization that he’s dying.

He reads it in the near frantic pace the EMTs are working on him and the tightness in their jaws. There’s a moment when a monitor wails, and he no longer has to infer.

“Shit, we’re losing him!” someone swears, and there’s a flurry of movement and then he can no longer see.

“Come on, sweetheart, just stay with us,” one of the doctors murmurs. “We’ll get you there soon, I promise.”

“I’m dying,” he whispers, horrified. “That’s – that’s what this is?”

No one answers, but he’s stopped expecting them to.

“We’re here!” someone announces, and Peter looks up as the doors are flung open, and in a matter of seconds, he’s being carted out. He runs through the double doors alongside the stretcher, and people rush to meet him.

“What have we got here?” a man asks.

“Collapsed lung, three broken ribs, abrasions to the legs, face – “ a lady starts to list.

“Brain contusions, full extent unknown – “ another man continues.

“ – and an internal bleed,” she finishes.

“His other family should already be here already. I need an ultrasound, x-ray, 12-chem, type and cross-match. Let’s get the RT down here, please,” a doctor commands hurriedly. Peter’s stretcher is wheeled closer to the bed, and as nurses get into place, Peter’s pushed outside the cubicle.

As the curtains close in front of him, he hears someone say, “On my count. One, two, three.”

Effectively cut off from seeing his own body, Peter looks around frantically, trying to find any sign of May. He catches sight of a desk and quickly walks over to it.

“Excuse me,” he says quickly. “I’m looking for May Parker! She got here before me, I need to find her, I need to know if she’s okay,” he tells the receptionist urgently. When she doesn’t look up, Peter’s heart drops and he remembers that they can’t see him.

He looks at the binder with a list of names sitting on the counter and scans it, looking for May’s name. Before he’s even read four names, someone walks over and picks the binder up, and Peter looks helplessly after them.

“Wait, no! I – I needed that,” he says fruitlessly, looking around again.

“Ruptured spleen, we need to move!” someone calls out loudly behind him, and he turns to find four people rushing into the hall, surrounding a gurney.

He looks at the body there, praying that it’s May, that he’s found her. Instead, he’s met with the sight of himself again.

“We’re taking Peter Parker into operating room three,” one of the doctors announces, and Peter quickly rushes to follow, lost and confused and not having any other clue what he should be doing.

“We’ve gotta remove the spleen, drain the lung, and figure out what’s causing the bleed,” another doctor lists off. He gives the doctor across from him a grim look. “If this kid wants to live, he’d better start fighting.”

“Start fighting?” Peter asks desperately. “I don’t – I don’t understand, I don’t know how to do that! God, please somebody tell me what I’m supposed to do!” He twists at his sleeves in distress, eyes filling with panicked tears as they move through the double doors into the operating room.

He follows them in, a sort of horrified curiosity tugging at him as he watches them prep him for surgery.

“Am I good to go?” the head surgeon asks, and someone nods their assent.

“Please don’t let me die,” Peter whispers, eyes wide as everyone takes their places, the surgeon picking up a scalpel. “I don’t want to go, please.”

He watches as a woman leans down close to his ear and talks to him lowly.

“Here’s the secret, baby,” she says. “You control this whole thing. If you live, if you die – it’s all up to you. So whatever fight you’ve got in you, you have to pull it out now.”

Peter stares at her, confused. How is he supposed to do that? How does he just… _decide?_ He can’t do anything, no one can even hear him. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to die. Not yet. He has too many people he can’t leave behind.

May. Tony. Ned. MJ. The Avengers. Spider-Man.

He can’t leave them yet.

“Call the blood bank. I need two units of O neg. And let’s see if we can track down his aunt, please,” a doctor commands.

“Of course, sir,” a nurse responds, rushing to follow his orders. A moment later she says, “His aunt is on her way to OR five now.”

Peter quickly runs to the door, looking out just in time to see another gurney being wheeled by. Under all the covers, the big oxygen mask, and the doctors surrounding her, Peter barely recognizes her. But he’d know her anywhere.

“May!” he yells, watching them roll by.

“We just have to relieve the swelling,” Peter hears one of the doctors say as they whisk her around the corner out of sight. “She’s pretty lucky, all things considered.”

Peter leans his head against the window, his eyes not leaving her until they’re out of sight.

“May…”

* * *

“May…”

“Yes, baby?” she answers, using a whisk to mix the batter in the bowl. Peter’s perched on the counter. They’re making Christmas cookies, which has always been Peter’s favorite part about the holiday season.

“What if I can’t make friends in middle school?” he asks timidly. May looks up sharply at that and sets the whisk down beside the bowl.

“Oh baby, no, don’t worry about that,” she says quickly, standing in front of him and pulling him close to brush her fingers through his hair. “They’re going to love you. How could they not?”

Peter presses his face into her shoulder. “The kids don’t like me now,” he mumbles in protest, and May tenses, gently pulling back to give him a searching look.

“What do you mean?” she asks. “You love school.”

Peter looks down, kicking his legs out nervously but careful not to hit May. “I _do_ like school. I like learning,” he says earnestly. “But the other kids think I’m weird because of it. Because I read books about Iron Man’s robots and I raise my hand too much and I’m – I’m a f-freak,” Peter’s voice hitches on the word, eyes filling rapidly with tears.

May tenses, and she gently but firmly grabs Peter’s chin. “Peter Parker, you listen to me. You are _not_ a freak and I don’t ever want to hear that word come out of your mouth again, you hear me? Especially not about yourself,” says fiercely, eyes flashing as Peter’s lower lip wobbles.

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter responds, a lone tear tracing its way down his cheek. May coos and draws him into her arms.

“Don’t let those bullies get to you, baby,” she tells him. “The world isn’t ready for you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fucking 4AM my time, and I finally finished writing this whole fic, but I'm splitting it into three chapters. I'll post one a day. I tried to edit, but, uh... not sure how well that went. Listen, I know you can find plenty of plotholes. Just go with it, please.
> 
> I've been really excited about this, and I really hope people like reading this as much as I have loved writing it. I appreciate you guys so much. Oh, and the irondad content comes later, I promise. ;)
> 
> And as always, come yell at me on tumblr @the-great-escapism!


	2. Chapter 2

He’s been in surgery for hours, and they’re not even close to done.

“I-I have to check on May,” Peter mutters to himself, perking up as one of the nurses opens the door to leave. He takes the chance to walk out behind her, quickly making his way up to one of the main floors.

He’s scanning the wall for a directory when he catches sight of a familiar face, just rounding a corner.

“Steve?” he questions. Making a split-second decision, Peter decides to follow the man, figuring he’ll probably get information more quickly that way. The man walks with quick, purposeful steps as he makes his way to the waiting area, and Peter gasps in relief when he sees who’s there.

“Tony, I came as soon as I heard,” Steve tells him, giving the tense man a quick pat on the back.

“We only just got here,” Tony responds, gesturing to Pepper. “Hell of a time for the suit to be faulty. Come on, it’s time to get some answers.”

The small trio make their way to the front desk, and the man nearly drops the phone he’s holding when Iron Man, Captain America, and the CEO of Stark Industries walk up.

“No problem. You’re very welcome,” he says into the phone before hanging up. His eyes are wide and he swallows nervously but manages to keep his cool as he says, “How can I help you?”

“We’re looking for May Parker and Peter Parker,” Tony says shortly.

“They were in an accident earlier this morning,” Pepper adds. “Can you give us a status update?”

The man nods. “Are you guys family?” he asks as he types at the computer.

Tony’s clenches his jaw. “We’re as good as,” he says, tightly.

Peter feels a lump rising in his throat at that. They really  _have_ become family in the months since the Snap was reversed. With all the shared meals and the movie nights and the stupid arguments, they might as well be family by blood.

“May Parker arrived here just over two and a half hours ago, and Peter got here shortly after. Both are still undergoing surgery in the OR,” the receptionist informs them.

“Why do they both need surgery? What happened to them? What’s their prognosis?” Tony fires off, not even giving the receptionist a chance to respond.

“Tony, calm down, it’s going to be fine,” Pepper says soothingly, and Tony whirls, banging his fist on the receptionist’s desk. Even Peter can’t help but flinch.

“Dammit, Pepper, it’s not fine!” Tony snarls. “This is all my fucking fault. I shouldn’t have let her drive, I should have had Happy pick them up.”

“And what?” Steve challenges calmly. “That just means we’d have one more person in that operating room. There’s nothing you could have done.”

Tony’s chest heaves, and Peter sees the way his left arm is trembling, a telltale sign of an impending panic attack.

Peter can’t help but reach out and place a hand over Tony’s clenched fist. “It’s okay, Mr. Stark,” he says quietly, even though he knows the man can’t hear him. And maybe it’s just Peter’s imagination or wishful thinking, but he could swear Tony calms, just a little.

“We can have the doctor out here to talk to you as soon as possible,” the receptionist offers timidly, and Pepper offers him a tight smile.

“That would be perfect, thank you,” she says diplomatically, quickly steering Tony into a private waiting room, away from all the prying eyes they’ve acquired.

“Tony, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out,” she tells him, and he fixes her with a scathing look.

“Don’t patronize me, Pep,” he bites, and she raises her hands.

“I’m not,” she says calmly. “All I’m saying is that whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Together. And if I know anything about the Parkers, it’s that they’re fighters.”

Tony lets out a breath and nods, reaching out and holding onto her hand tightly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, thinking of all the times he’s watched Peter fall and get back up again. “They are.”

* * *

Peter meets Ned on the first day of seventh grade. So far, middle school is about as god awful as he’d expected it would be, if not worse. Turns out that in middle school, students hate it even more if you’re smarter than them.

So far, he’s been shoved into lockers, had his favorite Iron Man comic thrown into the toilet, and been forced to let kids cheat off of him on tests. So yeah, middle school has been a less than glamorous experience.

He’s headed to lunch, glumly resigning himself to yet another year of sitting alone, when he turns a corner to find some boys cornering a kid Peter’s never seen before.

“No one as big as you should even be  _allowed_ to eat lunch,” a kid Peter recognizes as being Gage spits out, and the other kid flinches.

“At least I’m smart,” the kid says back defiantly, and Peter can’t help but admire the way his back straightens and his chin lifts in the face of the two bullies in front of him.

“I’d rather be stupid than a pig, Ted,” the other kid, Jonathan, sneers.

The boy smirks, and he catches Peter’s eyes before winking minutely. “It’s Ned, actually. So, you admit to being stupid, then?”

Peter just barely holds back a snort as the other boys give Ned a furious look.

“You little shit, I’m gon – “

“I thought we just established that I’m big?” Ned interrupts, looking bored. “Anyway, I’d love to stick around a chat, but bullying isn’t really my thing, so I’m just gonna – “

Peter’s eyes widen as Ned quickly ducks between them and runs into the cafeteria, where there are too many monitors to really get away with anything. Peter follows behind, not wanting the boys to turn their attention to him.

Once he grabs his tray, he finds a table by himself in the far corner, far enough out of the way that hopefully he won’t be bothered. He pulls out his  _Star Wars_  catalog and looks at all the LEGO sets he could only dream of having. They’re all so expensive.

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full.”

Peter jumps, not expecting to be interrupted. He looks up and sees the boy from before, Ned, standing uncertainly in front of him. Peter looks around and sees an empty table right beside them, and the kid follows his gaze.

“Okay, so I lied. Sue me. You seem cool, and I want to be your friend,” Ned tells him, and Peter huffs out a dry laugh.

“In that case, you might prefer to sit somewhere else. I am the opposite of cool,” Peter says self-deprecatingly.

Ned shrugs. “You’re looking at LEGO  _Star Wars_ stuff. That automatically makes you cool in my book.”

Peter’s eyes light up at that, and he immediately moves his bag and jacket to give the kid space to sit. “You like  _Star Wars?_ ”

“Like?” the boy scoffs. “More like live and breathe! I even have the Millennium Falcon LEGO set!”

Peter’s eyes widen. “No way! I would die if I got that.”

“Oh, believe me. I nearly passed out when I got it for Christmas,” Ned tells him.

Peter grins. “Oh, I’m Peter by the way. Peter Parker.”

Ned sticks out a hand. “Ned Leeds.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Peter jokingly says formally as he shakes the other boy’s hand. Then, he places the catalog on the table so they can both look at it.

“Peter, I do believe this is the start of a long and glorious friendship,” Ned announces, and Peter smiles excitedly. He hasn’t had friends in so long. Or ever, really.

“I think I have to agree.”

* * *

When Peter can’t find May’s room, he decides to wait with Tony, Pepper, and Steve. Tony has been pacing around anxiously for the last hour or so while Pepper taps away at her StarkPad, no doubt trying to find out any information she can. Steve is simply sitting on a chair, years of training keeping him patient.

The sound of frantic footsteps has everyone looking up. Peter’s heart leaps into his throat. “Ned!” he exclaims, relieved to his best friend. A second later, another familiar face walks in behind him. “MJ!”

“Miss Potts, I came as soon as I could, but I was at work and I didn’t even see your message until I was already here because MJ came to pick me up and work and told me to get in because Peter and May are in the hospital and – “

“Whoa, breathe, son,” Steve soothes, quickly walking over to lay a calming hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Just breathe.”

Ned takes in heaving breaths, having evidently run all the way here. His eyes are blown wide with worry, and he doesn’t even gasp at being in the presence of Captain America and Iron Man.

Ned turns back to Pepper and Tony. “What’s happening? All the message said was that there was an accident and Peter and May are in the hospital. Are they okay?”

Steve carefully maneuvers Ned into a seat while MJ opts to lean against the wall and stare intently at the ground, listening but not saying anything.

“They got in a car accident, and they’ve both been in surgery for a couple of hours now,” Steve tells them calmly. “May has swelling in her brain, and Peter has a long list of injuries. A ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, broken ribs, a head injury.”

Ned takes in a shaky breath and looks up at the adults with fearful eyes. “Are they – are they going to die?” Ned asks in a small voice, and Tony visibly flinches at that. Peter rushes forward and sits next to Ned, grabbing his arm.

“No,” Peter says vehemently, even though he knows Ned can’t hear him. Peter looks up when he realizes someone else said it at the same time as him.

“They’re not going to die,” Tony practically snarls, and Ned shrinks, while Steve the man a warning look.

Tony just glares and goes back to pacing, but Peter can see the guilty look on his face. He hates this. He caused this. This is his fault. If he could just wake up, if he could just be okay…

“Rhodey says he and the rest of the team are on their way. If anyone asks, they’re here to support Tony. Everyone knows they’re close and that Peter’s his personal intern. I’ll handle the press,” Pepper says collectedly, and Tony softens as she walks over and rests her head on his chest. He hugs her tiredly.

“This sucks,” he says bluntly.

“I know, honey,” she whispers.

Peter’s attention is caught by a faint rustling, and he looks over to see Ned pulling a familiar brown leather jacket out of his bag.

“What’s that?” Steve asks curiously.

Ned carefully folds it in his lap. “It’s, um, Ben’s old jacket. Peter always puts it on when he just… needs to feel safe. And May doesn’t like being away from it, so I thought I’d bring and give it to whoever I see first.”

Steve nods, and Peter is momentarily overwhelmed by a rush of appreciation for his friend. Ned and MJ, who were both beyond themselves with worry, stopped by his apartment to get that for them? The consideration causes a painful lump to swell in his throat, and he swallows thickly.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the silence, staring at the jacket. “Thank you so much.”

* * *

When Ben dies, Peter’s world turns to grey.

He’s still struggling with his newly-acquired powers, and all he can think is,  _this is all my fault._ It’s a thought that plagues him every moment of everyday, and it’s all he can do to get up in the morning.

While May’s at work, Peter sneaks into her room and takes the jacket that Ben always leaves slung over his desk chair. He holds it close and inhales, closing his eyes and letting the smell of Ben’s familiar cologne wash over him.

 _Safe,_ his brain supplies.

He only feels a little guilty when he takes it back to his room and curls up in it. He’s not sure how many nights he spends wrapped up in the soft leather, but it’s all he really has left of Ben.

Peter gets back from one of his first patrols at three in the morning. He’s finally got a grip on his new abilities, and he doesn’t make a sound as he slips in through his window. He sheds the onesie in favor of some clean pajama pants and creeps into the kitchen for a glass of water.

As he makes his way into the hall, a sound stops him. He’s just outside of May’s room when he recognizes the sound of harsh sobbing.

His heart breaks all over again.

Peter doesn’t hesitate before heading back to his room and grabbing Ben’s jacket. He quietly makes his way to May’s room and gently pushes the door open before tip toeing in.

“May?” he whispers hesitantly, and the crying stops almost instantly. May is curled up on the bed, her face pressed into Ben’s old pillow. A knife pierces through Peter’s heart at the sight, and he carefully walks up to her.

He allows her the mercy of pretending she’s asleep as he gently tucks Ben’s jacket around her, so it can give her all the safety it’s given him.

When Peter leaves the room, May cries all over again.

* * *

The Avengers, Ned and MJ, and Peter are all piled into the private waiting area, each person doing their own thing to cope with the wait, when the doctor walks in with a grim look on his face.

Peter’s heart drops. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads. The crew each gets to their feet, everyone ready to bombard the poor man with questions, when the man holds up a hand to stop them.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the entirety of the Avengers and two high school students being in his waiting room. The man just looks sad.

“Family of May and Peter Parker?” the doctor double checks, and everyone nods. Peter could scream. He just wants to grab the man and shake him and make him say what’s wrong.

“I’m Dr. Singhal. Peter Parker is getting out of surgery now, and we’ll be transferring him to the Intensive Care Unit. We managed to stop the internal bleeding and remove his spleen without incident, and his broken ribs are set. As for the head injury, well… those are always tricky. We won’t know more until he wakes up,” the doctor explains.

“But?” Tony prompts, sensing the doctor’s hesitation.

“That’s  _if_ he wakes up. The damage that’s been done to his head alone is enough to keep anyone out. Dr. Banner briefed us on the… enhanced nature of his healing, but the trauma that his body’s undergone is pretty severe, even with the extra help,” Dr. Singhal explains. He hesitates before continuing. “I think it’s safe to say that if he doesn’t wake up within the next twenty-four hours, he might not wake up at all.”

The group exchanges an uneasy look, caught between relief that he made it through surgery and worry that he might not wake up from it.

“And May?” Pepper asks fearfully.

Peter’s heart freezes in his chest, fear gripping at his throat. Suddenly, all he can think is that he doesn’t give a damn if he wakes up, as long as May does.

The doctor purses his lips and shakes his head minutely. “She didn’t make it off the table.”

The room gives way to grief, and at the corner of his consciousness, Peter hears Pepper let out a cry as she falls into Tony’s chest, but he’s already rushing out of the room.

He chases after the doctor, heart in his throat. “You’re wrong!” he yells. “She’s not gone, she’s not gone, she’s  _not!_ ” Peter gets in front of the doctor, grabbing his arms and kicking in frustration that he can’t make himself seen.

Another doctor approaches Singhal, and he turns away from Peter. “How’d it go?” she asks.

Dr. Singhal gives her a sad look. “They’re upset, understandably.”

She shakes her head. “It never gets any easier, does it?” she asks, watching as a gurney is wheeled into the ICU. “That’s him? Peter?”

Peter watches with blank eyes as they start hooking his body up to different machines.

Dr. Singhal nods. “The poor kid’s already lost his parents and uncle. He’s waking up an orphan all over again, if he wakes up.” He gives a heavy sigh before walking off, and Peter keeps running after him.

“Wait! Stop, stop, she’s – she can’t just be gone, you have to do something, you have to go back and try something else!” Peter pleads to deaf ears, panic rising in his throat, choking him.

“Please, I – you don’t understand, I can’t live without her, I  _can’t –_ “ Peter’s voice breaks as the doctor rounds another corner, out of sight. He falls to his knees there, in the middle of the hallway, nurses and doctors passing by unseeingly.

Peter chokes on a sob, tearing at his hair. “It can’t be true, please save her. I can’t do this again. God, please save her  _please,_ I’d do anything.”

He curls in on himself, grief breaking him in half. “I don’t want to live in a world without her,” he says brokenly.

At that moment, machines wail from his room.

Peter doesn’t care.

* * *

May and Peter are hanging ornaments on the tree, but this year, it’s a solemn affair. It’ll be their first Christmas without Ben.

Music filters in through the small apartment, punctuated by intermittent sniffles from both May and Peter as they try to keep it together. Peter looks at all the colorful ornaments, and all he sees is grey.

“May?” he asks quietly, and she hums lightly in response as she hangs an ornament near the top. “What happens if – if I lose you, too?”

May nearly drops the ornament at that. She quickly steps off the stool and turns to him, an upset look on her face.

“Peter, don’t,” she warns, through gritted teeth, but he just gives her a broken look.

“Why not?” he challenges. “Because I already lost both of my parents and now – and now – “ He can’t bring himself to finish it. Peter takes in a deep breath. “Who’s to say that you won’t be taken from me next? I can’t, I can’t – “

“Oh, baby, no,” May coos, immediately rushing to pull him close as tears streak down his face. She squeezes him tightly before pulling back and taking his face in her hands. “Peter, look at me.”

She waits until Peter’s eyes are locked onto hers before she continues. “God better be prepared for me to raise Hell before taking me away from you,” she says fiercely. She presses a kiss to his forehead before pulling him close again.

“I’m here to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I hate waiting for updates, so I felt bad for making you wait. The last part of this will be posted either tonight or tomorrow. Please let me know what you think! I will be So Sad if nobody likes it.
> 
> All the medical stuff I wrote in this chapter is bullshit, just go with it.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter’s still sitting numbly on the floor when a familiar figure walks briskly past him. His eyes follow the thin frame around the corner, and he quickly get up to follow, ignoring all the doctors rushing to his room.

He doesn’t give a shit what happens to him.

They go down a couple of halls, taking random sharp turns every so often, before she turns into a tiny room with a vending machine and a couple of chairs, away from prying eyes.

“MJ,” Peter whispers sadly as the girl kicks the vending machine angrily before folding herself into one of the chairs, scraping her hands over her face as her body shakes. She’s not quite crying, but Peter can practically see the grief pouring off her in waves.

But he’s just… numb now.

He sits down in the chair next to her and places his hand on her back comfortingly. He wishes he was actually there, because then maybe they could be there for each other. But instead, they’re both achingly alone.

Until the sound of footsteps approach them and come to a stop in the entryway. Peter looks up to find Natasha standing there, her face unreadable as she takes in the sight of MJ, still hunched over with her face in her hands.

Peter watches as Natasha quietly walks in and lowers herself to the floor, back leaning against the vending machine.

For awhile, they simply stay like that, MJ trembling and Peter’s hand on her back and Natasha sitting there, ready to offer whatever kind of comfort she can. Eventually, MJ looks up, eyes red.

“This blows, huh?” Natasha comments, and MJ lets out a harsh laugh and nods.

“Isn’t that a fucking understatement,” she agrees, staring bitterly at the floor. “You know, I was a total asshole when Peter first met me. And for a long time after, honestly.”

Natasha hums interestedly and waits for her to continue. MJ sighs, bringing her knees up to her chest.

“I guess I just thought I could… I don’t know. I used to watch Ned and Peter together, and I wanted friends like that. I want to be  _their_ friend. But I didn’t know how, so I kept being an asshole.”

She shrugs to herself, resting her chin on her knees. Natasha is studying her intently, not entirely sure where this is going. Peter holds his breath, waiting for her to keep going.

“I knew almost from the beginning that Peter’s Spider-Man. But Spider-Man isn’t even the one who saved me.” She shakes her head to herself.

“No, that was all Peter Parker.”

* * *

“Hey, didn’t you see MJ’s text in the group chat?” Ned asks him after school one day, just as Peter’s heading to their usual Decathlon practice room. “Practice is cancelled.”

Peter stops. “Wait, really?” he asks incredulously, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I only just got out of Physics and haven’t had time to check my phone.”

“Yeah, man,” Ned tells him as Peter reads the message.

_Practice is cancelled today. Sorry, but I’m really not feeling good. I’ll send out a text about a make-up practice._

Peter frowns at that. “That’s weird. MJ’s never cancelled practice before. Plus, she looked fine earlier.”

Ned shrugs, looking unconcerned. “I don’t know, maybe she caught that bug that’s been going around. It comes on quick and I heard it’s real nasty.”

“Hm, maybe,” Peter agrees, feeling uneasy.

“Anyway, want to grab a sandwich at Delmar’s and then study at my place since we don’t have practice?” Ned asks.

Peter shakes his head. “I totally would, but I’m so freaking tired. I was thinking that maybe I’d start patrol early and then get caught up on my homework so I can just go to sleep.”

Ned looks disappointed but nods sympathetically. “I get it, man. Just be sure you actually get some sleep tonight. God knows you need it.”

Peter smiles before they go their own separate ways. It takes him no time at all to get the suit on and greet Karen. Within minutes, he’s going through the familiar motions of patrol, enjoying the rhythmic  _thwip_ of his web-shooters as he swings through the city.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of being Spider-Man. Like yeah, the Toomes thing definitely sucked. It actually  _really_ sucked.

But, Peter thinks, every hero encounters a moment that either makes or breaks them. For Tony, it was the wormhole. For him, it was Toomes. It didn’t break him. He didn’t let it. Besides, it’s all worth it for the people he helps.

Time passes by quickly, and Karen notifies him that May will be home soon. He starts to make his way back and decides to take to the streets and grab a hot dog as a quick snack. He’s passing through a cluster of apartment buildings when a raised voice meets his ears.

“You useless fucking child! I asked for Grade A eggs, you piece of filth. What is this?” a woman is screaming at a girl, and as Peter gets closer, he’s horrified to realize it’s MJ.

“I’m sorry, but the store was out and I thought this would be fi – “ he hears MJ apologize quietly, before she’s cut off by a resounding smack that has her falling to the ground.

“I don’t want your goddamn excuses. I have to do all the  _fucking_ work around here, don’t I?” the woman, her mom, Peter presumes, yells at her. Everyone walking by pays them no mind, simply keeping their heads down and walking quicker.

Peter looks at the people of New York incredulously, expecting  _someone_ to step in. When no one does, he steps forward, ready to tell this lady off.

“Peter, no,” he hears MJ mutter under her breath as she turns away slightly from her mom. “You’ll only make it worse.”

Peter freezes, momentarily taken aback at being addressed as himself and not Spider-Man. He stops, trying to look nonchalant but ready to step in if her mom tries to hurt her again.

“Don’t even bother coming back tonight,” her mom spits, turning and slamming the door shut. Peter hears the lock and looks at MJ, still sitting on the street.

He’s quick to rush over to her but lets her stand by herself, knowing the unnecessary show of help will only piss her off.

“Come on,” Peter says gently, steering them in a side alley and away from prying eyes. When they come to a stop, MJ focuses on looking anywhere but him.

“I should tell the _Daily Bugle_ that you tried to kidnap me,” MJ quips, and Peter sighs.

“MJ, don’t,” he says, not giving her a chance to deflect. She immediately goes on the offensive.

“Don’t what, Peter?” she says heatedly. “What do you want me to say? ‘Surprise, I’m not actually sick, it’s just that my mom is an abusive hag and I had to run errands for her’?”

“No, it’s just… Why didn’t you tell someone? We could have helped,” Peter tells her, and she laughs mirthlessly.

“Right, and who would’ve believed me? I have the picture-perfect white PTA mom who everyone loves,” she tells him, hand coming up to absently rub at her cheek. There’s a red splotch there, and Peter can bet it’ll bruise later.

“ _I_ believe you,” he says vehemently, and she gives him a blank look.

“That’s because you just saw it,” she protests, rolling her eyes.

“And? So what? That just means you don’t have to go it alone now,” Peter tells her.

She raises her eyebrows at him. “I don’t need your pity, Parker.”

“And I’m not offering it,” he says coolly, before softening. “Look, I’m not here to tell you everything’s going to be fixed. I’m here, as your friend, to tell you that you’re staying at my house tonight and having dinner with me and May, because there’s no way in hell you’re sleeping on the streets.”

She just stares at him intently for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek in thought, and searches his eyes. She must find whatever she was looking for, because after a moment, she pushes off from the wall.

“Okay. Lead the way.”

As they get closer, Peter ducks into an alley to change. When they make it to the apartment, May’s waiting for them. She smiles widely in greeting but falters when she notices the bruise forming on MJ’s cheek. MJ raises her chin defiantly, as if daring her to say anything about it.

Instead, May just pulls her into a warm hug and says, “I ordered Indian. I hope that’s okay. I think Peter mentioned one time that you’re vegetarian? So there are a couple vegetarian options in there.”

Tears start to form in MJ’s eyes, unbidden, and she quickly looks away and clears her throat.

“Uh, yeah. That’s, um… That’s perfect, actually, thank you, Mrs. Parker,” MJ says gratefully.

May simply waves her hand. “Oh, stop that, you’re going to make me feel old. Just call me May.”

“Well, thank you, May,” MJ says again as they sit at the table. “I, uh, really don’t know how to pay you back.”

May stops and pierces her with a look. “You’re paying me back by being here. It’s always nice to know Peter has other friends,” she jokes with a wink.

“Hey!” Peter protests, and MJ can’t help but smile.

 _There’s something about the Parkers_ , she thinks. _They’re special._

* * *

When Natasha and MJ make their way back to the waiting room, with Peter trailing close behind, they find that only some of the Avengers are still there. It’s Rhodey who greets them.

“We were wondering where you’d gone,” he comments.

“We needed a breather,” Natasha says flatly, looking around. “Where did Tony and Pepper go?”

Rhodey nods towards the hall, where Peter’s room is. “They’re with the kid. It was scary there, for a moment. They weren’t sure if he…” He purses his lips and gives a quick shake of his head before continuing. “Once the doctors stabilized him, Tony managed to convince them to let a few of them in.”

“MJ, why don’t you go and kick one of them out for a bit?” Sam asks gently. “I’m sure they’d understand.”

She shakes her head weakly and collapses into a chair next to Ned. “It’s fine,” she says resolutely, and Peter decides to go look at himself. Besides, he wants to see Tony.

He quickly heads to his room and finds Tony sitting in a chair by his bed, with Pepper sitting behind him and massaging his shoulders gently. Tony, for his part, looks awful. It’s barely been a day, but there are dark circles under his eyes and deep wrinkles lining his face.

He just looks… tired.

“Pep, do you think I could have a moment alone with him?” Tony asks hoarsely, and Pepper nods, her hand coming to pat his cheek gently.

“Of course, honey. Take your time,” she tells him, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. Once she’s gone, Tony’s demeanor completely collapses. He shakes his head, a broken look on his face.

“Goddammit, Pete,” he says, and he sounds absolutely wrecked. “You know I have heart problems, and now you pull this shit?”

Peter swallows and sits down across from him, on the other side of his body. God, he can’t do this.

“I’m so sorry,” Tony says. “I should have come and picked you and May up myself. And now – now she’s…”

And all over again, a knife pierces its way through Peter’s heart, and the monitor speeds up. Tony looks up, panicked, and Peter wills himself to calm down.

 _Breathe,_ he tells himself.  _Don’t think about it._

“This fucking sucks,” Tony states bluntly, running a stressed hand through his hair. “And I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to fix this. I can’t just put you in my lab and tighten a few loose screws to make it all better. Your enhanced healing’s kept you alive, but what if it’s not enough? It  _has_ to be enough.”

Tony laughs harshly and Peter winces at the broken sound. “The nurse told me to talk to you. She said you can hear me, but I probably just look stupid.”

“No, please!” Peter says. “I hear you, please don’t stop talking, please.”

Tony sighs and shakes his head. “But if there’s even a chance… I know – I know that I’ve been a less than perfect mentor for you. I know that I don’t always show you how important you are to my life. But I’ve already lost you once, Pete. The Snap changed everything. I don’t have words to describe…”

Tony drifts off, his voice clogging up. Peter watches as the man tries to collect himself, tries to keep it together. He clears his throat harshly.

“I was so scared. I’ve been scared every moment since that day. And now you’re here, and those fears are coming true. I might lose you all over again.”

Peter’s eyes fill with tears as Tony looks at him with raw terror written across his face. Tony swallows thickly and grabs Peter’s hand, holding it between both of his own. Tony kisses it gently before resting it against his forehead.

“You’re the strongest kid I know,” Tony whispers, a single tear falling down his cheek. “I need you to stay. But I… I understand if you can’t. I understand if you have to go. I understand, buddy. Just  _please,_ ” Tony’s voice cracks. “ _Try.”_

He lowers his head to the mattress, crying openly, and Peter gets up and walks to Tony’s side. The man’s breath hitches sharply on a sob, and Peter feels his own tears fall at the permission. He wraps his arms tightly around Tony’s shaking shoulders and cries with a mixture of relief and pain. He knows what he wants to do.

“Thank you,” Peter whispers. “I’m – I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t be stronger. But I have to go before I hurt anyone else.”

Tony holds his hand tightly, and Peter closes his eyes.

 _Tomorrow,_ he tells himself.  _I’ll wait until tomorrow._

* * *

“Chicken soup for the spider-baby, coming right up!” Tony announces, not waiting for a response as he waltzes into Peter’s room at the Compound.

Peter groans and flings a hand over his eyes to block out the light. “Jesus, FRIDAY, I thought I told you to lock him out?”

“Sorry, Peter,” FRIDAY says, sounding amused. “I’m afraid the locks can be overridden in the event of a medical emergency.”

“The flu isn’t a medical emergency!” Peter protests weakly, and Tony laughs softly, setting the bowl beside him.

“According to my programming, FRIDAY thinks that if you so much as sneeze it’s a medical emergency. I think it’s called the Baby Gate Protocol, so you can’t go gallivanting around the city while you’re sick,” Tony teases, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” Peter mumbles, tossing him a filthy look. “And nobody uses the word ‘gallivanting’ anymore.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really? Would you rather me say ‘frolicking’?”

Peter just rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the way it makes his head pound. “I hate you.”

“Mhm,” Tony hums, nudging Peter to the side. “Now roll over so I can sit.”

Peter shifts to the side, wincing as his sore muscles yell at him for the movement. It’s been almost two years since he’s been sick – since before the spider bite – and it’s really kicking his ass.

Tony plops onto the bed and carefully helps to prop the kid up, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort. Then, he reaches over and tucks a cloth napkin into the color of Peter’s shirt.

“ _Tony_ , I’m not a baby,” Peter whines, and Tony smiles in amusement while he puts the steaming bowl in his lap. “I can feed myself,” Peter says resolutely.

“Okay, then show me and I’ll leave you alone,” Tony challenges, holding out a spoon.

Peter glares at him and takes it, willing his hand not to tremble. God, he doesn’t remember the flu hurting him this much. He vaguely remembers Bruce explaining to him that enhanced healing also means when he  _does_ get sick, it’s much worse.

Trying to ignore his mentor’s scrutiny, Peter carefully lowers the spoon into the soup and tries to bring it to his lips. He’s only halfway there when his hand starts to shake uncontrollably with the effort, sending the soup sloshing down his front.

Peter’s face reddens in embarrassment, but he’s suddenly thankful that Tony had the foresight to put the napkin on him. He looks away from Tony, lowering the spoon back to the bowl.

“You know, I’m not even hungry,” Peter lies. “Don’t think I could keep it down anyway.”

Tony gently brushes his hand away and takes the spoon, filling it with the broth again. “Yeah, I don’t think so, kiddo. You need to eat so you can take this medicine. Then you can go back to sleep. Promise.”

Peter weighs his options. On the one hand, he could just suck it up and let Tony help him, which is very embarrassing. On the other hand, he could keep trying by himself and failing, which is even more embarrassing. Peter sighs, resigning himself to humiliation.

“Fine,” he says, trying not to pout.

“Good. Do I need to airplane it into your mouth for you?” Tony jokes, and Peter fixes him with a scathing look. “Okay, okay, no jokes. Got it. Open up.”

Peter quickly gulps the steaming broth down, blushing when Tony cups a hand under his chin to keep any of it from spilling. He averts his gaze while Tony refills the spoon, filing this experience away as one of the most humiliating things he’s ever had to go through.

Tony seems to sense this and doesn’t laugh at all or do anything to make Peter feel worse. He merely murmurs a few words of encouragement every now and then, but for the most part, he just focuses on making the whole ordeal as quick and painless as possible.

Halfway through the bowl, Peter’s eyes start to drift shut with fatigue, and he leans more heavily into Tony’s side.

“Not yet, buddy,” Tony says, tapping his cheek gently. “One more bite and then your medicine. Then I’ll let you sleep, I promise.”

Peter groans tiredly but pries his eyes open to swallow down one last spoonful, sighing in relief Tony sets the bowl aside and hands him a cup of water and two large pills.

“Just get these two down really quick,” Tony encourages, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he swallows down the pills with a cough. “Good man,” Tony praises.

Peter doesn’t waste any time before sinking back down into the pillows, and Tony chuckles softly. “FRIDAY, turn off the lights,” he commands quietly, smiling when Peter lets out a content sound.

Tony shifts down into the covers, glad he’s wearing a comfortable pair of sweatpants. He knows it’ll probably be a long night.

“Wait,” Peter mumbles, and Tony tenses, sure the kid’s about to be sick. “But you’ll get sick, too.”

Tony relaxes and brings his hand up to comb through Peter’s hair gently. “Of course I won’t,” Tony says matter-of-factly. “Iron Man can’t get sick.”

“Bullshit,” Peter huffs tiredly, and Tony just shushes him, massaging the kid’s scalp, hoping to relieve some of the headache.

Just when Tony thinks Peter’s finally drifted off, a small voice sounds through the darkness. “Mr. Stark?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for – for bein’ in my life ‘n everything,” Peter slurs tiredly. “I’m glad I have you.”

Tony stills, heart swelling at the pure words. He swallows thickly, overcome with emotion. “I’m glad I have you too, kid,” he says roughly. “Now go to sleep and we can finish this sap fest later.”

“Please don’t go,” Peter says suddenly, a childish request that has Tony’s chest aching with something he can’t quite place. He pulls the kid close, planting a quick kiss atop the soft curls.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Peter doesn’t even realize it’s morning until MJ and Ned walk into the room with Pepper, who carefully shakes Tony awake. At some point, the man had fallen asleep in the chair, hunched over next to Peter.

“What time is it?” Tony asks tiredly, blinking his eyes to clear away the exhaustion.

“Ten o’clock in the morning,” Pepper tells him as he straightens up, scraping his hands over his face. He knows it’s obvious he’d been crying, but he doesn’t have the energy to care.

“How are you two holding up?” Tony asks the kids, who just shrug. Peter frowns, noting the tired bags under their puffy eyes. It doesn’t look like they slept much at all.

“We, uh, stopped by Peter’s apartment to grab some more things, and… His letter from MIT came in this morning,” Ned tells him, and Peter’s eyes widen.

Holy shit. Of course, he’s been waiting for weeks and weeks to hear back, and the day after he gets in a wreck, he gets his letter.

“We weren’t sure if we should open it,” MJ says quietly. “But I thought… I don’t know. I thought if he’s listening somewhere in there, maybe it’d give him a reason to stay.”

Tony nods thoughtfully, and Peter nearly bursts with curiosity. “Open it, open it!” he can’t help but urge.

“You two know him best,” Tony says. “It’s up to you.”

Ned and MJ look at each other and have a silent conversation before nodding. “MIT meant so much to Peter, and I know he got in. And if it helps, then…”

Peter holds his breath as MJ carefully tears the envelope open before passing the paper to Ned, who immediately starts reading aloud.

“Dear Peter, On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to the MIT Class of – PETER, YOU MADE IT!” Ned exclaims loudly, nearly jumping in excitement, and Peter can hardly believe it.

He can’t help but grin widely, even though no one can see him. After everything – hours of hard work and pouring over his application and gathering references and years of taunts from Flash saying he’s not smart enough – he actually got in! God, May’s going to be –

Peter freezes, and reality slams back into him. It takes his breath away, and he nearly collapses all over again.

The machines start to beep rapidly, and everyone looks the monitors fearfully, Tony quickly grabbing Peter’s hand again.

Peter backs away into a corner of the room and clamps his hands over his ears, trying to block it out, block everything out.

_May’s gone. There’s nothing left._

He’s lost two sets of parents, and Peter wonders how he could ever stand to live in a world without them. He looks up to where his friends and Tony are standing at his bed, pleading with him to stay. He hears doctors rush in and push them out of the way.

He watches Ned take a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Dear Spider-Man,” Ned starts to read quickly, voice shaking. “Iron Man is cool I guess, but you’re my favorite Avenger. I bet you don’t remember, but you saved my Mommy when the bad guys almost got her. Daddy had to go to Heaven awhile ago, but I told God that He can’t have Mommy yet. Thank you for saving her. I think you’re an angel. And if you ever need a sidekick, I would like to be yours. Love, Noel.”

Peter’s eyes fill with tears as he listens to the words. He remembers the day he got that letter. It was the first of many he’d ever gotten addressed to Spider-Man, all dropped off at the foot of Stark Tower. It was the first time he ever truly understood the impact of what he does.

“See, Peter?” MJ adds, tears streaming down her face as the doctors work frantically on his body. “What you do  _matters._ You matter. And – and I know you probably don’t want to stay, but you have a future here.”

“And a family,” Ned adds, gesturing around them. Peter turns to see all the Avengers staring through the glass with sad eyes.

Sam is whispering a prayer, eyes glued to the scene, while Rhodey shakes his head sadly. Wanda has a hand clasped over her mouth, tears pouring down her face as Clint rubs her back, jaw clenched tightly. Natasha’s stoic façade is broken only by the slight tremble of her lips, and Thor looks three seconds away from causing an electrical shortage. Steve is just standing there, staring blankly at the scene before him, while Bruce frets anxiously.

Peter closes his eyes and sees May and Ben in front of him, arms open wide. And all he wants is to run to them, to forget about everything else and leave it all behind. He walks closer to them, letting everything fade away, relaxing with the knowledge that this can finally be over.

But then a voice breaks through the haze.

“Please stay, Peter,” Tony is chanting. And all Peter can see is May and Ben looking at him as the beeping of the machines picks up, but Tony’s voice holds him back. “Please, baby, I swear I will do  _anything,_ just please don’t go.”

And Peter stops. He looks at May, drinks in the sight of her face. She looks at him with warmth and fondness and everything that Peter’s always considered safe. She smiles at him sadly and shoos him away.

“Go on, love,” she tells him, wrapping an arm around Ben’s waist. “It’s not your time yet. They need you.”

Peter’s face crumples as he looks at her. “I’m so sorry, May. I’m so sorry,” he says brokenly, voice tight with pain. “I love you so much.”

She nods at him and offers him a warm smile. “I know, baby. I love you, too. We’re always with you, you hear me?”

He nods frantically, tears streaming down his face.

“Now go,” she says gently.

The beeping gets louder and faster, a frantic pace, and Peter squeezes his eyes tight shut again as the sound overwhelms him.

And then, there’s nothing. Darkness. Silence. He tries desperately to open his eyes, but nothing happens. Not until –

“Please, don’t leave.”

 _That’s Tony’s voice_ , his mind supplies. Peter wills his eyes to open, tries to claw his way towards the voice that’s cracking like glass around him.

“Please don’t go," the voice pleads again.

He pictures Tony’s face in his mind, tries to get as close as he can. And then, it’s like something’s cut the rope that kept his mind tethered to the darkness, and Peter manages to pry his eyes open.

He’s in bed, back in his own body, Tony’s calloused hand wrapped tightly around his own. Tony is still whispering to him, over and over.

“Please don’t go.”

Peter takes in a deep breath.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I'm pretty sure this fic has flopped. It's okay, though, because I had a ton of fun writing it! Even though I nearly killed myself writing it all in a day. I hope you guys have enjoyed it, too. I'm mostly happy because this fic pushed me to grow as writer and venture outside of projecting my own thoughts. Instead, I was able to let the characters have a mind of their own. Oh, I think I have a pretty solid sequel idea.
> 
> Please drop a comment/kudos on your way out. It seriously makes my day to hear your thoughts. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> If you wanna hang out, come chat with me on tumblr @the-great-escapism!


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